Great One, My Heart
by queen-isabell
Summary: A series of oneshots centering around Hephaistion. Ch3 [The Handsome Youth] King Phillip throws a party. Hephaistion gets tipsy and Alexander gets cross. Fluff! AlexanderHephaistion.
1. The Palace of Wishful Thinking

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_Authors Note: _My first Alexander fanfiction. It's set in the movie-verse, but I've read Mary Renault's Alexandriad so that may come across some. It's a series of oneshots but they are all connected, and revolve around Hephaistion who was my favourite character in the books and the movie! Oh... and angst ahead, be on your guard!

Lastly, I don't own the characters, they belong to history! Please review, it would mean so much to me!

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**The Palace of Wishful Thinking**

It was long past midnight when Hephaistion awoke in that place of myths and dreams, the Palace of Nebuchadnezzr II. He was warm and content and for a moment he did not know where he was. Then through the open windows, the wind blowing from the river Euphrates came to him, cool and alloyed with the smell of perfume and incense, and he heard the sound of continued revelry. And then the sleeping woman alongside him, replete and the source of his warmth, moved and the snag caught the illusion.

A week since he had entered this Gateway of Gods, and already all had changed.

He extricated himself from the woman and put on the Persian garb discarded on the floor by the bed. On the second night he had stifled laughter with Ptolemy as Cassander commented slyly to Crateros about how the hardened general looked "absolutely ravishing!" in them. Of course they had all stopped laughing when Alexander had come in. It wouldn't do to give offence so soon into celebrations.

Hephaistion went to the wide window now and stared down at the magnificent sprawl of the Palace. It was all they had dreamed of and more. The ziggurats seemed almost alive in the night, dotted here and there with so many lights. In the distance the Tower of Babel rose up to pierce the heavens and everywhere there were magnificent gardens to rival those of the Gods themselves. Enough to fuel the dreams of a thousand men and more.

"We dream with you, Alexander." Hephaistion said aloud. He raised his eyes from the great, living city to the dark nothingness of the night sky. "But we also dream because of you."_ I dream because of you. _

"What's wrong Hephaistion?" It was Ptolemy who had asked him that, the previous night. Alexander had not noticed. "Don't like it here, eh? Can't say I blame you altogether. It's a little too... well.. _Oriental_ for my liking. Though," And Ptolemy had winked drolly. "It does have its charms!"

Hephaistion had laughed then. But now in his heart he thought, _No Ptolemy. It is in reality not Babylon. The harpy that claws at my heart is called is called Sadness._

Hephaistion pressed his forehad against the smooth polished wood of the window frame and closed his eyes. In his mind's eye he coud still summon to life, as though perfume filling his soul, the touch and feel of Alexander, the sounds he made in pleasure, his great dark eyes wide in the candelight, his strong hands clutching desperately, the long column of his neck waiting to be kissed, the passion and hardness of him both. He had gone to Alexander on that first night behind Babylon's walls with something to say but it all been forgotten in a dream of a night that might last forever.

But with the new sun brought change. Alexander had been excited about following Darius into the East, he spoke of new lands to be conquered and explored, the fire was in his eyes. Change had been a long time coming and it was not as though Hephaistion had not been expecting it. But on the long road, the battlefield, in the desperation and fervour of war where they had slept together - too exhausted to do anything, but close enough to feel each other's cold knees - it didn't rankle with him so much.

But on that day, watching Alexander stride to and fro, resplendent in his Persian robes, loved by all, the color of his hair everywhere remarked as that of the Sun itself, and filled almost to overflow with his visions of a world of Alexandrias, the truth came home to Hephaistion. Alexander needed no other succor, especially not that of the mortal kind. The King, not the man, could not be touched for to do so would be asking for the embrace of fire.

Other things too. The new boy in Alexander's rooms, not just a rough tumble in the sheets for they had all had those, but some kind of inexplicable, strange creature to whom the nature of yielding was an art, a religion. It came to Hephaistion, as he looked into the boy's dark eyes, almost as though he wielded some strange, arcane power. A boy such as he, Hephaistion knew, would know how to worship the King, how to touch the God.

Alexander had not said anything of course. He probably would not know how to phrase the words if it had occured to him that they might need to be spoken. But Hephaistion understood all the same. Ptolemy, straightforward as always, had remembered to feel sorry for him. To that one Hephaistion had said simply, "It is the way of the world. We are not boys any longer of course."

Hephaistion could barely remember a time when he did not love Alexander the boy, Alexander the man. But to love the King was to love the World of the King, and Hepahistion who had known the sweetness of the world, must know now also its great bitterness.

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End 21/4/06.

Thank you for reading. Please take the time to review if you could!


	2. The Light and The Omen

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__Authors Note: _Set in the movie-verse but very heavily influenced by the character interpretations (especially of Alexander) and other aspects of Mary Renault's books. Oh, and I'm aware that Roxane is actually Roxana in the movie but she just comes across as Roxane to me lol. More angst ahead folks, I'm so sorry! Next one will be happy, I promise! 

Characters do not belong to me! Big thank you to the reviewers of the first chapter, it meant so much to me.

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**The Light and The Omen**

The day after Alexander announced he was going to marry Roxane, Hephaistion went riding out in the country. Outside the tall walls of Baktria was a fair, mountainous land where the fertile soil of the mountain ranges faded seamlessly into the Turanian deserts.

Alexander had seen him as he saddled up his horse and swung up onto it and had come over to make protests, "Are you mad Hephaistion? What if you run into the hostile tribes?"

"I'll take some of my men with me." Hephaistion replied. "Euryalus and some of the others want to go hunting. We won't go far. There's a stone on that hill dedicated to Zoroastres. Do you remember..."

"The Prophet, I know. Founder of the religion of the Magi. It was in the _Alcibiades_. I remember, Hephaistion."

They regarded each other. Hephaistion was silent because he was terrified of what he might say. They had read Plato's text in the Academy days together as boys. They had been slight enough then to still read using the same candle if they pressed together closely enough so Hephaistion's memory of the _Alcibiades _was convoluted with the sensation of Alexander's thighs against his tingling flesh, Plato's words tangled with the memory of the tightness of his leg as he held it absolutely still, afraid that some slight movement might rupture the magic.

Alexander's own expression was strange. He looked at Hephaistion, then at Bucephalus saddled near the Gate and said, "I wish..." And then the moment past. Alexander looked back at Oxyrates, Roxane's father, waiting for him a little distance away, grinning at them both idiotishly, as happy as if the Gods themselves had stepped down unexpectedly from the heavens to honor him. Which, Hephaistion thought, was probably exactly what he thought had happened to him.

"Be careful." Alexander said at some length. "Be back before nightfall, Hephaistion. I'll be looking out for you."

He was back before nightfall and as he past through the gates of the walled city, the guards saluting him, he had looked up and seen Alexander's head at the window. Some trick of the fire made like radiance his face and hair and just like looking upon divinity, it was too bright to make out his features.

The day Alexander wed Roxane struck a strange note in the company somewhere between cheer and confusion. The soldiers, drunk on wine and the end of fighting, toasted everything and anything twice over. Hephaistion, in the ring of Macedonians, realized that Parmenion's brooding, shut face did not look altogether that different from the Persian General Pharnakes' expression of tightly guarded caution.

A Hill Chief's daughter, Ptolemy had laughed. Not even the Persians had been expecting Alexander to actually marry her. I want sons, Alexander had declared. To join the Asias. Hephaistion who on the night that Roxane had danced for Alexander and Alexander alone and had seen the panther beckon and the lion roar in return, wished he could be more blind.

That afternoon, after Roxane had retired with her women, Alexander had stayed on to drink with them. In the dusk waning into evening, Alexander was resplendent, a vision, and looking upon him, lulled by their drink, even Cleitos, Parmenion, Cassander were persuaded to be merry, or at least to save their belligerence for the cold light of day.

After Perdikklas had wandered off with some Baktrian girl, Hephaistion sat drinking alone. He kept an absent eye on his men who, fired by the wine, had convinced themselves that it was just the right time to start impromptu wrestling matches. Suddenly there was a touch on his shoulder. His heart constricted and he knew without turning who it was.

"Hephaistion?" Alexander asked. Almost automatically Hephaistion shifted over but Alexander did not sit down. "Is the wine good? How are the men doing? I saw Cassander speaking to you before."

Hephaistion opened his mouth to make the correct replies, then all of a sudden the wine must have caught up with him at once because his mouth went dry, the mask fell away, and in his eyes he let Alexander see into the uncovered wound of his soul.

Alexander grew distressed. He said swiftly, desperately, "Hephaistion, listen to me. One can never forget his duty to men, even if that one is blessed beyond measure by the Gods. Hephaistion, you are-"

The rest of his words fell away. On this night, they were both trying to avert omens.

"Great King," Oxyrates' servants had found them. They bowed so low their faces almost touched their knees. "It is time. For the preparations."

Alexander didn't look at them. He continued to look at Hephaistion who confusedly realized that they were now holding hands and that his wine glass had fallen discarded onto the ground somewhere near his feet, the red wine soaking the earth.

"Alexander," He heard himself saying, quite clearly. "I have to give something to you. I will come later."

Alexander said, "Yes. No. _Hephaistion_."

Hephaistion let go of his hands and pushed him away gently.

The day before they left Babylon he had come across the old man in the market with the tattooed sun on his forehead. He did not speak Greek at all but the boy his son had translated, "This ring from the old land. When we worship a Sun God." The old man had pointed up into the sky, squinting into the bright light. "Greatest of the stars. This ring it has..." And the boy had paused then looked at his father. Something passed between them. The old man nodded, pointing at Hephaistion and the boy continued. "A sigh, how do I say, an auspice. He who wear it must have heart great like a God. Otherwise the ring, it wretched."

"Only to the one like _dios, _it will cleave?" Hephaistion asked. The boy nodded, pleased he understood. He grinned. "Yes. It will bring luck."

So Hephaistion had bought the ring and the omen both.

In the evening of the day Alexander wed Roxane, he waited until he saw the servants leaving and then he went to Alexander. _The stars and the sun. _He told the other. _You will always be the sun to me, Alexander. _They had embraced then, holding each other tightly as if they never meant to let go, and Hephaistion had said all that he would have said outside only this time he meant it inside his soul, because Alexander was truly the greatest man he knew and Alexander would have sons and conquer the world and Alexander's light would continue to fill his days like the sun.

They had broken away then. Hephaistion did because there was one thing more that he wanted to say. He wasn't sure if he should on this day for who knew the whims and jealousies of the Gods? But he couldn't help it, it thrilled from him, and he wanted to be looking into Alexander's eyes when he did so their souls could converse. He opened his mouth and-

Hephaistion would never know afterwards if the intervening God that sent Roxane at that moment was cruel or benevolent, if a stroke of fate had turned the winds, averted the omen. But Roxane appeared all the same, her dark brows drew in, and Hephaistion left them and left the words unsaid.

The night of the day Alexander wed Roxane, Hephaistion returned alone to his room. He did not go to bed but sat on the window ledge and stared up into the dark, empty sky.

No stars, no sun, not for him, not this night in Baktria.

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Thank you for reading. I'm thinking of doing some scenes from their youth in Macedonia for the next part, it would be happier at least lol!

Please review and tell me what you think!


	3. The Handsome Youth

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_Authors Note: _Yay, the happy fic I was always promising! This story started off seriously but turns into pure fluff towards the end lol. It's good fluff though I promise. Again I don't own the characters and there's some historical inaccuracy ahead, it's called artistic license folks!

Please review and tell me what you think (and if I should just stick to angst haha).

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**The Handsome Youth**

The sun was setting swiftly over the green fields of Pella, transforming it into hues of red and gold. In the corridors of the the Palace, the lamps had already been lit and now shone, casting with effulgence like worship, over the pebble-mosaic corridors depicting many mythical monstors and heroes poised for the kill.

Loud laughter, music and revelry came from one of the great halls, drifting on the pungent smell of food and perfume. A delegation had come from Sparta and King Phillip had decided to hold a banquet in their honor.

"Though," Alexander said lowly to Hephaistion before he was hauled away by Parmenion to sit at the table of honor. "Any excuse would do for him nowadays."

He and the other Companions were on a break from Mieza and Aristotle. Many, by virtue of their important fathers and families, had been given permission to attend the party. Boys among men, they clustered together now, distinguished and different from the other young Macedonian nobles, and eager for others to remember it.

"Come now," Ptolemy, ever easy in manners, was the first to break away. "We've put on enough of a show of manners and breeding for one night I should think! There's a pretty girl over there, a Thracian I think. She doesn't have enough airs for a Greek heitara."

Philotas, whom Hephaistion could never really think about without adding the words "skinny" and "little" into the description, answered him eagerly. Hephaistion watched in amusement as Ptolemy marched straight up to the girl, who looked taken aback by his boldness but who smiled at him with her bright eyes. Philotas, hot on his trail, tried his luck with the girl's heavily painted friend who looked considerably less impressed.

Cassander sidled up to Hephaistion and motioned towards Alexander, who was chatting at King Phillip's table with one of the Spartan delagates, with a wine cup. "So what's it this time? He's been as black as Hades for days! Is it the Queen or is it," he coughed loudly, "have you been _working _him too hard?"

With a deliberate flick of his wrist, Hephaistion spilled his drink. Cassander yelped and Hephaistion snatched his wrist. "Don't be such a fool Cassander. Remember who you are insulting. And it's not just Alexander."

Cassander didn't struggle. He stared at Hephaistion, measuring him. They were both just out of boyhood, of similar build, still soft were men were hard. They had never been tested agaisnt each other and so there was no telling who would knock who out if they decided to have it out right there and then. Cassander had had too much faith in the crowd and Alexander's presence. Hephaistion was telling him he was wrong.

"Very well," Cassander said at last with a scowl. "You've made your point Hephaistion."

Hephaistion let go. He wasn't angry really. He was aware of the jealousy of others. They were all Companions but Achilles had but one Patrokles and thinking of it filled him with such joy he did not much left in him for the small cruelties of others.

Cassander went away and was replaced quickly by Timaes who cheerfully refilled Hephaistion's spilled cup. "Good one," The boy said, grinning. "He won't forget that. He'll be more wary next time. You know he only does that because he's jealous of you."

Hephaistion stared. "What?"

Timaeus was a clear-voiced, comely youth with cheerful manners. Hephaistion liked him because he never partook in any of the power games and backbiting that went on in Mieza when the philosopher's back was turned.

"Cassander fancies that he is in love with Hilarion." Timaeus informed him.

Hephaistion was stunned, then he grinned. "Really? The golden-haired guard? But so?"

"You really don't see anything except for Alexander do you?" Timaeus said with a glimmer in his eye. He sipped on his own cup, the curved beak pressing into his cheek. "Poor Hilarion."

Hephaistion put one and one together. "You can't mean...?"

Timaeus laughed. "Beautiful Hephaistion, beloved of Aphrodite and Alexander, so blind to poor mere mortals."

Hephaistion laughed then and resumed his drinking, hiding his grin in his cup. Timaeus clearly had had a drop too much to drink and was letting Dionysus have his jokes.

Later Ptolemy, flushed with wine and with the Thracian girl under arm, hailed him. "Hephaistion! Have you seen Alexander? I'm about to leave, wonderful party isn't it? Oh Ilena this is Hephaistion."

The girl stared at him boldly with her great eyes and then said something to Ptolemy who repeated it louder, with mock anger, "What? You think he's handsome do you? Is he more handsome than me? Why you little...!"

He attacked her and the girl squawked with laughter, her skirts flying. After which they disappeared from the room faster than the Persians fleeing at Marathon.

After they had left Hephaistion caught sight of Alexander in the crowd. The golden haired boy caught his eye and looked as though he was moving towards him but then Antipater grabbed his arm and gestulated something extravagantly, the laurel wreath in his white hair falling carelessly over his eye. The people swelled between them and Hephaistion was hailed by a group of men he knew to be friends of his father Amyntor and who were curious about Aristotle, what kind of philosophy did these Greek men teach?

One hour later Hephaistion was feeling delightfully tipsy and quite content as he cheerfully debated the possible outcomes of fought battles should Xerxes had done this or Leonidas had forgotten this. Timaeus had joined and also some of the Spartan delegates who were loudly advocating the actions of Leonidas at Thermopylae.

Their discussions were briefly broken up by someone exclaiming loudly and pointing and Hephaistion looked up and laughed with the others as King Phillip, rumored to have become more amorous since the Eurydike's pregnancy, loudly slapped the bum of Philotas and said something about him which sent his cronies into fits of laughter. Parmenion flushed with embarrassment but was helpless to comment as Cleitus the Black swung a friendly arm around his shoulder and shook the old man like a rag doll.

"Ha!" Timaeus said, waving his arms about as Philotas tried unavailingly to extricate himself from the crowd. He tottered and fell into some cushions currently occupied by a woman who didn't look too displeased. Another youth took it up, "Ha! He deserved that didn't he, Hephaistion?"

"Ha," Hephaistion agreed but he had already forgotten what he was agreeing with.

"Another cup, beautiful youth?" Someone smilingly was pressing it into his hands. Hephaistion thanked the man, what was his name? Someone had mentioned it.

"Hephaistion."

Hephaistion looked up and smiled. "Alexander! There you are. Where have you been? Ptolemy was looking for you. He, um...?"

Alexander was pulling him up (when had he sat down?) and taking the wine cup from his hand, dropping it unceremoniously onto the ground. "Come on, we're going now."

"Yes all right," Hephaistion said agreeably and allowed himself to be led away.

Someone he didn't recognize said, "Goodbye Hephaistion."

Alexander rounded on the man and said something sharp. Before it penetrated Hephaistion however, Alexander was back already and pushing him along towards the door. Halfway there a beautiful girl appeared. She was exquisitely painted and adorned with. She said softly, "Prince Alexander."

Alexander said something to her quickly, then looked at Hephaistion. He then something again, this time with more deliberation. Hephaistion couldn't catch it but then Alexander reached out a hand and carressed the girl's cheek. She blushed beautifully and Hephaistion felt as though someone had suddenly stuck a knife in his heart. It hurt so bewilderingly much that by the time they finally made it out of there he felt almost sober.

"Alexander, who was that?" They were retracing a familiar path through the palace.

"Hm?" Alexander was holding his hand but he didn't look back over his shoulder. "The girl? Her name is Callixena. She's a Thessalian courtesan. Parmenion introduced her."

"Oh." Hephaistion said. "Do you like her?"

Alexander looked at him then. He looked angry. "I don't know. Maybe I do! Why, are you jealous?"

Hephaistion was too hurt to speak.

They had come abreast of the guards at Alexander's room. Alexander waved aside their bows and drew Hephaistion through the door and slammed it shut behind him and glared at Hephaistion. Suddenly he came forward and snatched the laurel wreath off Hephaistion's head (who had put it there?) and flung it across the room.

Hephaistion said quietly, "Alexander whats wrong? Why are you angry? Cassander said-"

"Cassander!" Alexander's face was white. "Yes, yes, I did see that. And Timaeus too. Not to mention those delegates from Sparta, what do you think you were doing!"

Hephaistion blinked. And then he suddenly smiled. "Alexander, are you jealous?"

Alexander groaned. He flung himself face-down on the bed. "I refuse to talk to you when you're drunk! The way all of you were taking on tonight! Ptolemy, Philotas, even you Hephaistion! How dare you smile like that to those..." The rest of the sentence was muffled by the pillow.

Hephaistion took off his boots and climbed onto the bed. Lovingly he stroked the beloved hair. "We were just enjoying ourselves Alexander. There's no harm in it. I was only drinking because I missed you. I'm sorry Alexander, how was your night? I know you wanted to discuss it."

Not appeased, Alexander didn't look up or speak. Patiently, Hephaistion continued stroking him, gradually letting his hands grow more bold as they dipped lower on Alexander's back.

"Well, do you want to hear about mine? Let me see. Ptolemy abandoned us early on for a Thracian girl. Philotas went after him but judging by the way things turned out I guess he didn't have much luck. Then I was stuck with Cassander who said some pointed things. I managed to bully him off and then Timaeus tried to make me laugh by telling me that Hilarion had a crush on me-"

Alexander sprang up suddenly. "What?"

Hephaistion sat back on his legs and stared back guilessly. "Then the Thracian girl told me I was handsome. And somebody else said it too, but I can't remember who it was. It doesn't matter though because I only love you. Do you think I'm handsome Alexander?"

Alexander bit his lip and flushed. He opened his mouth and what burst out was, "I'll kill them all!"

"That doesn't sound very lover-like," Hephaistion demured wickedly. "Not half as good as some of the other things that were said to me tonight."

They stared at each other for one breathless moment. Then suddenly Alexnder flew at him, toppling him over. Then they were kissing and hugging each other and their clothes were too much in the way. As Hephaistion dipped his hand underneath Alexander's chiton the other threw back his head and moaned lowly, "Hephaistion!"

"So I'm handsome?" Hephaistion teased.

"Hephaistion, you're incorrigible," Alexander refused to rise to the bait, flushed, his eyes feverish as he clutched tightly onto Hephaistion's shoulders. "How dare you- If you ever-"

Then Hephaistion put his mouth where his hands had been and Alexander forgot all about what he was going to say.

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End 15/5/06. 

Thanks for reading! I have no idea what the next part will be about... any ideas people? More fluff? More angst!


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